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๐๐๐๐
๐๐จ ๐จ๐ค ๐๐๐ง๐ ๐ฌ๐๐๐ฃ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช ๐ฌ๐๐ฃ๐ฉ ๐ฉ๐ค ๐ก๐๐ซ๐ ๐ก๐๐ ๐ ๐
๐ข๐๐๐ฅ๐๐, ๐จ๐ฉ๐๐๐ก๐๐ฃ๐ ๐๐ฃ๐ฎ๐ฉ๐๐๐ฃ๐ ๐จ๐๐๐ฃ๐ฎ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช
๐๐๐ฃ๐, ๐๐ช๐ฉ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช ๐ก๐๐ซ๐ ๐๐ฃ ๐ ๐จ๐ข๐๐ก๐ก ๐ฉ๐ค๐ฌ๐ฃ ๐ฌ๐๐๐ง๐
๐๐ซ๐๐ง๐ฎ๐ค๐ฃ๐ ๐ ๐ฃ๐ค๐ฌ๐จ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช๐ง ๐๐๐๐.
Nothing
exciting ever happens here, unless you count us getting our very own
movie rental shop right next to the sheriff's station.
Which, for the record, I don't.
That is, nothing exciting happens until my roommate is murdered and her body washes up on the riverbank for the police to find.
Confused and angry, all I can really do is move on and let the police handle thingsโฆright?
Wrong.
I can use the questionable life skills God saw fit to give me and be
the best stalker-I mean, investigator-anyone has ever seen.
Until
four sexy as sin strangers waltz into town like we're some kind of fun
tourist destination rather than the most boring place on earth.
Lysander,
Azriel, Nikos, and Rhys don't belong in this town. Something's off with
them. Something is wrong behind their shrewd gazes and swoon-worthy
looks. More suspicious still, they show up right as my roommate was
found, and the reasons they give for coming here are flimsy at best.
At worst? I'm starting to think they killed her, or they know who did.
Is it coincidence that they're here just after the first murder in over a decade occurs?
And even if I'm wrong, what happens if the dust settles and I can't keep living the only life I know?
๐ช๐ฒ๐น๐น, ๐น๐ฒ๐'๐ ๐ท๐๐๐ ๐ต๐ผ๐ฝ๐ฒ ๐บ๐ ๐ฏ๐ผ๐ฑ๐ ๐ฑ๐ผ๐ฒ๐๐ป'๐ ๐ฒ๐ป๐ฑ ๐๐ฝ ๐ถ๐ป ๐๐ต๐ฒ ๐ฟ๐ถ๐๐ฒ๐ฟ ๐๐ผ๐ผ.
**๐๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ต๐ฆ๐ฎ๐ฑ ๐๐ข๐ณ๐ฌ ๐๐ ๐๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ข๐ฏ๐ค๐ฆ.
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Cover by @booksnmoods
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